Joe (21 page)

“You’re an asshole, Frank.”

“Wait.” Andrea lifted her hands. “We forgot. This could be a practical joke being played us by the Devil himself.”

Hal thought, ‘Practical joke, yeah, the Devil, hardly’.

“How are we supposed to know?” Frank questioned.

Hal spoke up. “We can ask him things.”

“I plan on it,” Frank said.

Andrea shook her head. “No. No. The Devil can read your minds. We have to test him.” She stood up, pulled a crucifix from her pocket and held it over the dummy. “First test.” She put the cross on Bob’s chest.

“Uh!” Joe screamed, then after a pause, he laughed. “Sorry, just a little ghostly humor.”

“Oh, my God.” Hal sneered.

“That’s it.” Andrea snapped. “Joe, if that is really you, you’ll say that you love Jesus Christ.”

“Andrea ...”

“Say it Joe.”

Andrea, I am not. ..”

“Joe, say it.”

“Andrea this is ridiculous.”

“He’s refusing!” Andrea pointed. “Sweet Jesus it’s Satan.”

“Christ! Fine. I love Jesus Christ. Are you happy goddamn it?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Andrea sat back down. “Thank you, Joe.”

“Now you brought me here, what do you want, I don’t have much time.”

“Why not?” Frank asked.

“What do you mean, why not?”

“Why not. You’re dead. What else do you have to do?”

“Well, for your information, asshole, I have a job up here.”

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“What is what?”

“Your job.”

“What’s with the twenty questions?” Joe said.

“That’s why we brought you here to ask you things. What’s your job?”

“If you must know I am a guardian angel, and right now you’re obstructing my job to guard.”

Frank laughed.

“What? What is so goddamn funny?”

“You an angel.”

“Frank.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s personal, private information, I can’t divulge.” Joe said.

“Can’t or won’t.”

“I’m killing him,” Joe mumbled.

“Come on, who is it? Because I have a hard time believing . . .”

“Fine. I am Alex’s guarding angel.”

Again, Frank laughed. “Well you aren’t doing a very good job; she brought a Killer Fetus to school.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Frank shouted. “Sorry. We’ll ask our questions so you can go back and guard ...” he chuckled. “Alex.”

“Fine, but if you ask me one inane question, I’m leaving.”

“I’m not gonna ask any dumb questions.”

“I mean it, Frank. I’ll leave; Make it worth my while to be here.”

“What if I went first?” Hal suggested. “Considering that I would like my questions answered and once Frank starts Dad will leave.”

“Go on,” Frank said. “Mine aren’t dumb.”

Hal prepared. “First, so I my establish in my own way that this is my father and not some evil entity.”

Andrea reached over and patted Hal’s hand. “You are such a good boy, always double checking things.”

Hal smiled smugly. “Thank you, Andrea. Dad, what was the name of my sixth grade homeroom teacher.”

Frank scoffed. “He won’t remember that.”

“Miss Lowenstein,” Joe answered.

Everyone looked up in shock.

“Nice, good Jewish girl,” Joe said. “Until, you know, she got out of teacher mode. The she wasn’t all that good. If you know what I mean.”

“Joe!” Andrea gasped.

“Tell you Hal, the best thing you did was put that fake vomit on her chair. What a conference we had over that.”

“Joe!”

Hal stuttered for an answer. “But . . . Billy . . . Billy Jenkins took the fall for that.”

“Well, you can say she made me take his punishment.”

“Joe!”

“That’s fuckin gross,” Frank said.

Hal turned pale. His mouth dropped open.

“Shut you up, now, didn’t I?” Joe said.

Andrea interjected. “If you shut him up it’s only because he’s basking in shock. We don’t need to hear about your former promiscuity, Joe.”

“Deal with it. It happened. Hal? Any more questions?”

Hal hesitated. He had to get his bearings. He reasoned that Frank Robbie had all bases covered. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Who killed you?”

“Oh!” Frank blurted out. “Good question.”

“Who killed me?”

“Yes, who killed you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Frank looked at Robbie. “Investigations over, right now.”

There was a pause, a long one, and then Joe answered. “Ralph.”

After a few ‘Huhs’, Hal asked. “Ralph?”

“Ralph.”

“Who’s Ralph?”

“You wouldn’t know him,” Joe said. “He came from the future. He walked in my office, said he was a suicide bomber, said he was from the future, and that he had to kill me to save the world.”

Andrea whispered, “Like our Savior Jesus Christ.”

Joe grumbled an ‘Hmm’.

“Wait.” Hal tilted his head. “A suicide bomber named Ralph from the future killed you.”

“Yes. That’s why the prints don’t match. He killed me.”

“He introduced himself as a suicide bomber named Ralph and blew you both up.” Hal asked cynical.

“He was blown to bits.”

“I just find it so hard to believe that man named Ralph . . .”

“Hal.”

“Yes.”

“Were you there?”

“No.”

“I was, so shut up.”

Hal gasped.

“There you have it,” Frank held out his hand. “Case closed.”

“Wow.” Robbie said. “Thank God. Thanks, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Can I ask my questions now?” Frank asked.

“Yes, but I mean it, Frank, if you ask one dumb question, I am out of here. Got that?”

“Yes.” Frank nodded. “Ready.”

“Go on.”

“Didn’t Elvis record the hit version My Way?”

Silence.

“Dad.”

Nothing.

“Dad?”

After a few moments of silence, Frank looked at those in the room. “Was that a dumb question?”

In his world they called him Chaka. A strong name for a strong man. But in this world he was nothing. He had heard stories of flying ships in the sky and how his brothers and sisters had been taken there and returned.

Never did he believe them.

Never did he think it would happen to him.

He refused to believe he was anywhere else but his home planet.

He just didn’t know where. The air was the same, a bit thicker. He had been dining on what looked like Rura’s. They had the same floppy ears and fuzzy tails, they jumped around the same way but they were much smaller. It took three to place a dent in his stomach, and catching three was not that easy.

He had seen an animal earlier. One bigger with horns on its head. He would hunt that in the morning when he found direction. But how?

A great soldier and hunter, Chaka was used to following the three suns. The larger always let him know which was east or west. The other two, when they moved from the sky moved north.

Chaka wanted to go north.

That’s where he knew he was last.

He was more tired than hungry, he’d rest then follow the single sun when it rose. Marking the trees in case it didn’t work out.

One more time, though, he’d try his communications device.

He pulled it from his jacket pocket. The nine lights lit up in a circle. He had power.

No signal.

He tried and tried. In his frustration he grunted and tossed it outward.

Chaka closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree.

Rest would give him a clear head and he sought just that, rest.

****

Ellen, like a lot of people, enjoyed a drink. She was by no means an alcoholic, but certainly seemed like one in her kitchen.

One shot downed. Then she poured another, rather quickly, too. She raised it to her mouth.

“Mom.”

“Not now, Billy.” She downed the shot, then another pour.

“Mommy.”

“Not now Alex.” Hands shaking she threw that back and poured another.

“El.”

“Not now, Dean.” She downed a fourth shot, finally gasping.

With a chuck he reached out stopping her hand from grabbing the bottle. “Don’t you think four shots is enough?”

“Nope. My hands are still shaking.”

From the kitchen doorway Billy said “First sign of alcoholism.”

Ellen shot a cross look at him.

“Just an observation.” He raised his hands in surrender and backed out.

“If you are counting on the alcohol to stop you from shaking, don’t you think you ought to wait until it kicks in before having more.” Dean asked.

“I’ll wait.” Ellen tapped her hands on the counter. “Ok, wait’s over, still shaking.”

“El.”

“Dean.”

He took the bottle.

“Dean, give it back.”

“No. No more. Not yet. Not at least until I can get you alone.”

Ellen’s eyes widened. “Are you hoping to take advantage of me if I get drunk?”

“Yes.”

Ellen shrugged. “Might happen, I haven’t had it in weeks.”

“Have another shot.” Dean poured her some whiskey.

“Thanks.” Ellen downed it.

“Why did this upset you so much?”

“Oh, my God, Dean I couldn’t even come back to this house until they left. My dead father spoke to us. I was scared.”

“If it was your dead father why are you scared of him?”

“Because you never know what happens to people in the afterlife, they may get mean.”

Dean laughed. “Did it even dawn on you that it was a joke?”

“Who would do such a thing to me?”

“Not to you, El,” Dean said. “Who called the séance?”

“Frank.”

“Yep.”

“You think he conjured this up.”

Dean nodded. “Possible. I mean look at his reaction. Plus, simple speakers in the room. It was electronic sounding.”

Ellen stared. “It was. Why would he do it?”

“Not just to you. To everyone. It’s Frank. And if he didn’t pull it maybe Robbie did.”

“Robbie and Frank.” Ellen pointed. “But who did they get.”

“Didn’t you just have Joe Day? Who was the star?”

“Arnold.”

Dean tilted his head. “Need I say more?”

“But he’s in Containment.”

“Who’s working tonight?” Dean asked.

“Jess.”

“Robbie’s roommate.”

Ellen gasped. “Oh, it all makes sense now. Fuckers.” She turned.

“Where are you going?”

“To see what I can find out. Can you watch the kids?”

“Yeah, but. Wasn’t my explanation good enough?” Dean asked.

“Yes, but for peace of mind, I want to double check.”

“But, El, we’re alone right now, in about twenty minutes you’ll be tipsy. You said I could try to take advantage.”

“Ok. I’ll be back.”

“But so will Frank.”

Ellen chuckled. Ha! You have been gone a while. Frank doesn’t come home much. He’s the president you know.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Thanks.” She started to leave, stopped, came back, did one more shot, then left.

Dean smiled. “Could be a good night.”

****

In through the door of the Social Hall and Hal stopped with a slight stomp of his foot, toss of his head and roll of his eyes. He huffed out, too.

“Captain?”

“This, Elliott, is why I hate coming here.”

“Karaoke?”

“Um, yes, one would think when the old world died, so should have karaoke.”

“People enjoy it,” Elliott made his way to the bar. “Your father was one of them.”

“When he was drunk.” Hal sat down next to him. “Oh, yes, totally forgot they don’t have a bartender here. Serve yourself.”

“I’ll get it.” Elliott began to stand.

“I got it.” Dan from Security said, he was behind the bar fixing himself a drink. “Hal? Slagel usual?”

“Yes, please, Dan.”

“Elliott.”

“Same.”

Hal gave a closed mouth nod to Elliott. “I’m impressed, hitting the hard stuff.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mood.”

“Uh!” Hal gasped out. “My mood? My mood. You’ve been dealing with my mood?”

Dan slid their drinks to them. “That’s what I heard him say. Unless you thought he said food.”

“No. Mood. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He pushed the bottle. “Since you’re in a mood. You may need this.”

Hal sipped his drink. “My mood Elliott is brought on by a poor practical joke.”

“Actually, Captain, it was a good practical joke.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No one has yet to admit it was a joke. And it seemed real.”

“You would think.”

“It felt as if it were your father,” Elliott said.

“Joe’s head been bouncing around again?” Dan interjected. “Can be some scary shit. I don’t think that’s a practical joke.”

Elliott leaned over the bar. “No, Dan, we didn’t see Joe’s head. We spoke to him during a séance.”

Hal winced, his hand waved out and he hunched. “Gees. Elliott.”

“What?”

“Make us sound insane.”

“If it’s any consolation.” Dan said. “I believe in that stuff. You don’t sound crazy to me.”

“Thank you for that vote of mental security,” Hal said, returned to Elliott and made a face.

Elliott laughed. “Why can’t you believe we spoke to Joe?”

“Because it sounded so electronic.”

Again, Dan intervened. “That’s because sound waves from the grave hold a certain amount of electrical current. That’s why the Ghostbusters used that gadget.”

Hal bit his lip. “Yes. I see.” He swung his view back to Elliott. “And why would Jess be so defensive when we asked if that Arnold man was out of Containment.”

“You were second guessing his job,” Elliott replied.

“No, I was not. I was double checking a practical joke.”

Again, Dan. “Arnold does a good Joe imitation.”

Hal swung his chair to Dan. “Yes, he does.” He returned to Elliott and opened his mouth to speak.

Dan did. “Too bad he gave up doing his Joe thing for Lent.”

Hal made a face of disgust.

Elliott snickered.

Hal turned to Dan. “What do you mean he gave it up for Lent? Lent was a while back. We had Easter already.”

“That’s what he said. “Dan shrugged. “He told me he was plagued by Joe visions and was scared to imitate Joe anymore.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Said he kept hearing Joe in his room at night saying he was going kick his ass if he kept pretending to be him.”

“Really.” Hal asked.

“So he got scared.”

“Thank you for that.” Hal returned to Elliott.

“See, Captain. Arnold doesn’t do it anymore.”

Dan spoke, “He didn’t see Joe’s head though.

Hal, still facing Elliott, closed his eyes.

“Floating around that is.”

Tighter his eyes closed.

“If he did that would be some scary . . .”

Slam. Hal hit his hand on the bar and turned to Dan. “Do you mind? We’re trying to have a conversation.”

“Fine. Fine.” Dan lifted his hand. “I get you a drink. Try to be helpful. I’ll go somewhere else.”

“Please.”

“No wonder you’re everyone’s least favorite Slagel.” Dan turned and left.

Hal paused, opened mouth and offended. “Did I deserve that?”

“You were a bit rude, Captain.”

“Rude? I wasn’t . . .”

“Stay away from the miserable Slagel, Ellen.” Dan’s voice carried across the bar. “He’ll bite your head off. No disrespect intended to your dead father.”

Hal crinkled his brow and looked Ellen was behind him.

She reached for the bottle, poured a drink, and began to walk away in much like Josephine fashion.

“What?” He reached out and grabbed her. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“I was warned.” Ellen said. “Besides it can’t be good for poor Elliott to be around both of us when we’re miserable.”

“Why are you miserable?”

“I got scared to fuckin death over a bad practical joke.”

Hal smiled. “Ah dear, Ellen, join me.” He pulled out a stool.

“Why?”

“So we can discuss this.”

With an hmm, Ellen went to sit on the stool. She slipped, gained her footing, and tried again.

Elliott smiled.

Hal raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk?”

“I don’t know. I think my blood pressure is up or something. I left …” She hiccupped. “I left the house and bam it hit me.”

“Were you drinking at the house?”

“I had a shot.” She said. “Or two. Or maybe more, not sure.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“I was shaking Hal. Scared. I heard Joe’s voice.”

“What made you think it was a joke.”

“Because Joe’s not talking from the other side. Trust me I had enough people die in my life, if it was possible, someone would have tried. I mean even Dean when he died talked to me through my dreams.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, but, unless Joe is alive and was in the next house, ain’t happening.”

Suddenly Hal’s eyes drew a far off glance.

“But that’s not the case.” Ellen said, then snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hal?”

“Yes. Sorry. You were saying?”

‘That’s not the case. We all saw Joes body.”

“Yes. Yes we did.”

“Besides, it had to be Arnold.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

Elliott added. “But he gave it up for Lent.”

“Shit. I forgot,” Ellen said.

“Maybe the Lent thing was a ruse. Set up by Robbie.”

“Robbie?” Ellen asked. “Why Robbie?”

“Did you see him?”

Ellen nodded. “Yeah, but, Dean said the same thing. But then again, did you see Dean?”

“I would think Dean’s behavior was more to do with the realist in him. He automatically knew it was a joke. If you don’t think it was Robbie. Who?”

“Frank.”

“You think Frank set it up?”

“Yep.”

“Ellen, Frank isn’t that smart.” Hal said.

“Oh, that is so wrong to talk about your brother like that.”

“It’s true.”

“He’s been smart lately.”

“Because everything he says has to do with military,” Hal explained. “Get him out of that. He’s not.”